


A Study in Love, by Gladstone the puppy

by jamlockk



Series: Gladstone [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, Fluff, Gladstone the Dog, Gladstone's POV, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-26
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-11 08:25:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4428299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamlockk/pseuds/jamlockk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gladstone the Irish Setter has only been living with Sherlock for a short time but he loves his master very much. So when an interesting new friend appears on the scene, Gladstone decides it's about time Sherlock to find true love and happiness - with the right person, of course!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Love, by Gladstone the puppy

**Author's Note:**

> I have officially lost my mind and can never be rescued from Johnlock hell. I have no idea where this ridiculous schmoopy fluff came from but I'm sure I lost all my teeth writing it. Hopefully you'll lose yours reading it. 
> 
> NB: Gladstone is a very clever, very self-aware dog. Just go with it.
> 
> [ Chinese translation now available! ](http://archiveofourown.org/series/327653) Massive thanks to LoveBBCSH!

My ears prick up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. I can hear the low rumble of my master's voice, the sweet sound of Mrs Hudson's twitterings, and a third voice. Oh. Interesting. Wonder who that could be?

I stretch luxuriously, yawn and leap down from Sherlock's bed. I'm technically not supposed to sleep there, his brother does so hate that he indulges me but the sheets are so soft and comfy. And anyway, Sherlock hardly ever sleeps there so I might as well take advantage. 

I snuffle around the bed, the soothing scent of my owner filling my nose. I like being here in this flat with him; he takes good care of me but he is terrible at looking after himself. He often seems so sad. He needs a friend, a real friend, one who can tell him how wonderful and amazing he is. 

Sometimes we sit in the evening, me curled in the chair opposite him while he reads or types or plucks his violin. I like the sounds he makes, most of the time. But when he stands by the window and plays slowly, looking out onto the street and city below, I feel how lonely he is.. On those nights I get down off my chair and wait for him to sit again. Then I settle in his lap, curling round him so he can bury his face in my fur. I snuggle close to him, listen to him breathing shallowly and try to offer him what comfort I can. I love him dearly and I fiercely want him to be happy. 

Which is why, when Sherlock finally enters the flat we've only been in a few days with a short, stocky man behind him, I dart out of the bedroom and across the sitting room to see what's what with this newcomer. 

The man startles a bit at my lolloping approach (I'm still young and I'm finding that my paws are sometimes a little difficult to control on hardwood floors). I'm fairly big and I'm gradually growing into my body, but I'm careful not to knock into the man or anything as he stands leaning on his cane. Sherlock doesn't bother to admonish me for my boisterousness, but I hear Mrs Hudson scold us both. I don't care, I'm too busy investigating this new friend. 

The man, I hear Sherlock call him John, pets my head. He smells lovely; earthy and clean and of the tea I know Sherlock likes to drink. I tried it once when he left a cup on the floor beside me. Foul stuff. Sherlock didn't notice I'd lapped up a little of it, despite my disgusted snuffle, and he drank it anyway. 

I stick my nose into one of John's pockets to get a better waft of that inviting scent he has. That gets a reaction from Sherlock and he snaps at me. 

"Gladstone!"

I shrink back feeling a little bit guilty. Got carried away there, whoops. But John just chuckles and pats my head again. His hand is strong but gentle, I can feel his callouses catching slightly in my fur as he strokes me. It's very pleasant and I plonk my butt down next to him so he'll continue, tail still wagging across the floor. 

"It's okay, he's just being friendly, aren't you?" John says to me. His voice is warm and pleasant, and I nudge his hand with my nose in approval. I look back up at my master and see him smile, first at me, then at John. 

Oh, I like that very much. I watch Sherlock smile at John and it's a smile I haven't seen before. It's light but sincere, and his eyes light and glow in such joyful ways. I am already keen on John but if he can make Sherlock smile like that every day I want him to stay indefinitely. Immediately. 

They're talking over one another. Sherlock nervously picks up a handful of letters and stabs them into the mantlepiece with a knife. John points to the skull up there with his cane. I look between them, hoping this won't put John off. He doesn't seem too bothered. So far, so good. 

Mrs Hudson interrupts and I move away from John to lie down in front of the fireplace, all the better to watch everyone. John sits down in my chair so I amble over and drop down at his feet. Sherlock watches me, a look of suspicion crossing his face, so I innocently scratch my nose with my paw. I don't think he's convinced. He doesn't have time to worry about me though, because there's another distraction coming up the stairs. 

Inspector Lestrade stands in the doorway and though he looks at John sitting in the chair, he's talking to Sherlock. He seems very worried. They talk about something bad, I can tell from Lestrade's frown and I over to him and rub my nose against his leg to reassure him. He pats me absently before he goes. Sherlock is thrilled to have a case and he leaves soon after Lestrade. No, no, no. This will not do. I turn back to the door and bark once. John startles in the chair behind me and Sherlock scowls at me when he comes back in. Never mind that, he can scold me for barking later. Now though, he's inviting John to join him. Perfect!

John follows him out and I turn to Mrs Hudson triumphantly. She winks at me and I trot back to my spot in front of the fireplace. I need to think.

****** 

By the time they come back I've had a short nap, wandered restlessly about a bit and come up with something of a plan to make sure John stays permanently. Sherlock already seems far happier than I've seen him, even just in the short time he's had me with him. I can sense the attraction between them and I know that if they were just to be close enough, they would each see it too. 

I know what my master can be like when he's focused on a case so I wait, bide my time until they are alone again. They disappear out together again, goodness knows when they'll be back. Billy comes to take me out for a walk and I eagerly jump up to go exploring. 

We go to the park and Billy lets me off the lead. He knows I'll come back to him when it's time to go home, I just need a bit of freedom and it does no-one harm that I'm loose. I get a bit excited sometimes but Sherlock's brother trained me well before he finally handed me over. 

I think about Mycroft while I run through the bushes, getting leaves and twigs tangled in my coat. I wonder what he makes of John? I remember the day Mycroft gave me to Sherlock, in that horrid little hovel we stayed in before Mrs Hudson and her tea and treats came along. 

He always looks stern, but I can tell he cares deeply about Sherlock. He was kind to me when he picked me up from the rescue shelter, though there were more than a few cross words before I learned that the leg of the grand piano in the reception room is not a suitable surface for peeing against. 

I was to be a present, a reward for having been away somewhere. I never found out where Sherlock had been but Mycroft told me he had struggled and been in trouble. I never want him to go back there. I was dropped off at the hovel by the nice lady, told to sit and stay. I'm a clever dog, Mycroft himself told me so. So I did. I sat and I stayed and I waited. I don't know how long I was alone there but when the door finally opened and a man walked in I was so excited. I itched to run to him and greet him properly, with a wet slurp and a wagging tail and a cold nose. But I'd been told to stay so I stayed. 

Sherlock looked at me warily and I wagged my tail harder. This one is a good one, I thought to myself, like the older one who rescued me. I desperately wanted him to like me and keep me. I wiggled and wiggled. His eyes softened and he knelt down in the doorway. That was all the invitation I needed. I sprang forward, licking his curly hair and making him laugh. He stroked my head and looked at the tag on my collar. 

"Gladstone," he said softly. I woofed quietly in response and then he hugged me. I have loved him ever since. 

And now I want John to love Sherlock too. I want Mycroft to love John, and I want Mycroft to be happy. 

My plan is simple; when Sherlock is alone with John, bring them close together and make them see. I bound back to Billy with fresh air in my nose, leaves in my coat and joy in my heart. Time to take action!

As we near the flat however, I become nervous. There's too many conflicting smells, some I recognise and some I don't. Billy hangs up my lead in the hallway and sends me upstairs by myself as per usual. I hesitate outside the main door, I can hear shuffling and voices. 

Intruders! In my home! My hackles are up and I'm growling softly as I prowl into the living room. I hear the door downstairs and round the corner to the kitchen, barking loudly to alert Sherlock and John. 

The tall man in the kitchen jumps and backs away from me, yelling something I can't understand. I'm snarling and barking at him as Sherlock rushes in. How dare he invade my master's privacy! 

"Anderson?!" Sherlock exclaims, putting his hand on my collar to quiet me. I stop barking but stand, teeth bared menacingly beside my master. 

"Can't you control that beast?" Anderson squawks, pointing accusingly at me. I feel John's presence behind us and hear him ask what is going on. Lestrade comes through from the sitting room and they all have a heated conversation. I'm not listening, not paying attention. I'm too busy scowling as best I can at this Anderson. I am not a beast. 

Sherlock begins pacing as he speaks and it makes me nervous. I whimper softly and John rests his hand on my collar. It feels good, I feel much steadier with him here, watching out for us. Lestrade and his Anderson are searching for something and John pulls me gently to the hearthrug and tells me to stay. He goes back over to Lestrade and is talking with him when I see Sherlock say something to John and slip away downstairs. 

I bark and whicker worriedly, fidgeting in my spot. John's head whips around and he sees Sherlock is gone. 

"Where did he go?" John asks. No-one answers and I whimper again, pawing at the rug. Lestrade and Anderson are finally leaving but I want to know where Sherlock is. I'm worried and worst of all, my plan won't work if John is here alone! 

John is frowning and looking at something beeping on the desk. He suddenly jumps back and beckons for me to come. I follow him eagerly downstairs and into a cab. He's forgotten my lead. And his cane. 

******

The cab journey would be lots of fun if I wasn't still worried. John's concern is pouring from him in waves and it's making me edgy. I'm sitting at his feet as he instructs the driver this way and that, checking the beeping thing every now and then. He's talking to someone too, his voice is nervous and angry. 

I don't like any of this, I want them both to be at home, laughing and sitting and petting me and letting me sleep on the sofa between them. I have to keep them safe, so I steel myself for what might come next when the cab stops and John leaps out. 

I sniff the air for Sherlock and catch his scent. I growl and it gets John's attention. He tugs my collar, pulling me towards one of the buildings. I dig my feet in and try to pull away. Wrong one, John!

"Come on, Gladstone!" John says firmly, taking off running into the building. Wrong way! I yelp but I have no choice but to follow. 

We search high and low for Sherlock and I'm getting more and more frantic. I'm sniffing at the door to the stairs, scratching it and whining to make John listen but he's not with me anymore. His shout rings out through the empty corridors.

"Sherlock!"

I take off down the corridor towards the shout and just as I crash through the heavy door there's a loud bang and a sharp smell bursts into the air. John lowers his arm and looks back at me. I cower and snarl, I don't know what's going on and I'm frightened!

"Hey, it's okay Gladstone, it's okay. Sherlock's okay, we'll go find him, shall we?" John's voice is soothing and I feel calmer as he leads me to a room and washes his hands. He splashes my nose with water and laughs at me when I snort. 

We walk out of the building together and I wag my tail excitedly at the lights and people milling about outside. I want to find Sherlock but John stands to the side, his hand on my collar again. I sit down and huff. He looks at me with an eyebrow raised, so I let my tongue loll and lick him. He squirms and laughs. 

Sherlock is walking over now, bundling an orange blanket into a nearby car. I leap up and run to him, wagging my tail furiously. He bends down and lets me lick and snuffle his hair, stroking my sides. 

John comes up beside us and I watch them talking to each other. Their eyes are sparkling and they're standing very close. This must be it... 

John suddenly turns away, a dark look on his face. Sherlock is frowning in the other direction and he starts walking that way. Oh, for... wait, is that Mycroft?! 

I bound over and let Mycroft scratch behind my ears. The nice lady is with him and she smiles warmly at me. Sherlock is not feeling so warm and he snaps at Mycroft. I reluctantly move away from the lovely ear-scratching and take my place at Sherlock's side. He takes up the ear-scratching and after a while, leads John and I away. They're smiling and laughing as we pick up food and head back to the comfort of home. 

******

Right. Action needs to be taken. 

We've eaten, John scolding Sherlock for feeding me junk food from his plate, Sherlock swiping mouthfuls of John's food when he isn't looking. They are watching something but not watching it at the same time, sitting side by side on the sofa. But so far, nothing! 

John gets up to go to the bathroom and I seize my chance. I jump up on the sofa and squeeze myself in beside Sherlock. He protests half-heartedly and strokes my head. I nudge his face with my nose, making him laugh. He budges up a bit and now I'm wedged between him and the arm of the sofa, leaving only the space right next to hm for John. Perfect. 

John could of course choose to sit in one of the chairs, but if he does that I'll take up pawing him while sitting heavily on his lap and refuse to move until one of them takes the hint. 

Sherlock is still stroking me and I look up at him. He's smiling at me and it's the same smile I saw him give John. I pant happily, there is so much love in him and he should have John to share it with. 

"You like him, then?" Sherlock asks me quietly. I snuffle and lick my chops noisily in agreement. He chuckles, wrapping an arm around my side and hugging me to him. "Me too," he murmurs. "Me too."

"You too what?" says John, sitting down next to Sherlock and pressing their thighs together. Sherlock's eyes widen briefly but he covers it up. He snorts and gestures at what they were watching. 

"Gladstone thinks this is ludicrous, and I quite agree. It is physically impossible for there to be that much space inside a police box!" 

John giggles. If I could, I'd roll my eyes right now. Instead, I intervene, leaning against Sherlock's body and lying down to take up as much room as possible. 

"Gladstone," Sherlock mumbles, but he's not really paying attention. He and John are so close now, almost there! Their eyes meet and I silently encourage them to hurry up and get on with it. John's gaze flicks down to Sherlock's mouth and Sherlock's lips part ever so slightly. 

Come on, come on! Kiss already! Sherlock blinks and John looks down. Dammit! No, I'm not giving up. I wrench myself to standing and knock my full body weight into Sherlock, pushing him forward. 

They both make a muffled noise of surprise as their mouths meet but then John's hands tangle in Sherlock's hair and Sherlock is gripping John's arms and they're still kissing. 

Yes! Finally! John leans into Sherlock and they both squish me into the sofa. I yelp and jump down. They break the kiss and look at me sheepishly as I stand facing them on the sofa. The space I vacated is filled with Sherlock, who has fallen back, John sprawled on top of him. They catch each other's eyes and the room is filled with the sounds of their warm laughter. 

John gets up and pulls Sherlock to his feet. Arm around Sherlock's waist, John guides him towards the bedroom. I shake myself and move to follow. 

"No, no, you stay here," John tells me, pointing at the sofa. I huff and jump up, sighing sadly as I rest my head on my paws. John ruffles my head affectionately. 

"Oh, and thank you," he says softly. Then he walks quickly to the bedroom and closes the door. 

I settle on the sofa and close my eyes. I can hear their voices and their giggles coming from the bedroom. They won't leave me out here all night, it's cold and Sherlock likes me sleeping next to him. I'll join them soon, curl up at their feet and watch over them as they doze. I will love them both and they will take care of each other as they will me. I drift off to sleep, happily dreaming of the adventures to come.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [爱的研究](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4863233) by [LoveBBCSH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveBBCSH/pseuds/LoveBBCSH)




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